Dylan had a nice chest, but it wasn’t as comfortable, and I barely slept for the two hours that Beck kept watch.

When he crawled back into the shelter, bringing with him an icy cold, I settled into my new favorite place in the world. Beck’s chest. His arms wrapped me up, and he pulled me higher—gently enough that it didn’t hurt my ribs too much. I ended up with my head cradled in the crook of his neck while his hand rubbed gently up and down my back.

“All clear out there?” I whispered sleepily.

“Go to sleep, Butterfly,” he murmured back, and in seconds his breathing evened out and he was asleep.

Evan, who had moved over to make room for the changeover of guard, shot me a knowing look before he dropped back down. “Beck definitely likes to keep things interesting,” he said, turning his back on us.

“What do you mean?” I whispered, my words brushing across the skin on Beck’s throat, because I was basically pressing my lips to it.

“Never seen Beck sleep with a girl … fuck them, yes, but the day he trusted a chick to stay longer than that…”

He trailed off, and I tried not to let any sort of hope blossom inside of me. These were not normal circumstances, and sure, Beck could have left me on the hard ground, my ribs screaming in pain—he had that option, but still … not normal. I couldn’t count anything that happened here as what would be back in the real world.

That would only lead to him ripping my heart from my chest and destroying whatever crumbs remained.

14

Beck was gone when I woke, my head and side now cradled in one of the extra blankets. It was still dark, but the light of the fire remained strong. Rolling over, I realized it was just Jasper in the shelter with me. With practiced hands, I reached out and felt his pulse, letting the rhythmic thrum calm the panic I experienced at waking and not knowing if he’d still be alive.

“Thank fuck,” I whispered before shivering in the freezing early morning air. Dylan had not been kidding about body heat, it had made a world of difference. Especially since they’d made sure I was always in the center, protected.

A girl could get used to that.

Evan poked his head in then, and I reached up to try and smooth the absolute mess I knew my curls were in. “Lost cause, Spare,” he said, his eyes laughing as he watched my failed attempts at getting my hair flat. “You’re going to need four tons of conditioner and some pruning shears.”

I flipped him off before wrinkling my nose. I wanted to be angry that he’d called me spare again, but this time when he said it, it was almost like … a pet name.

“You’re probably right,” I said with a sigh. “Where are the others?”

He shifted positions so he could get his hands under Jasper. “On their way back with the medical team. Our ride is here.”

Helping best I could, we got Jasper out and waited just near the fire. Someone had kept it going through the night, which was good because it was still dark and freezing, and I felt like a damned zombie. My ribs hurt. My face hurt. My throat hurt when I breathed. My arm hurt, and my broken arm really fucking hurt.

But we had made it. I was alive, and help had arrived…

“Are we going to have to fly again?” I whispered, and Evan flashed me a perfect white-toothed smile.

“Don’t stress, Riley. What are the odds of two plane crashes in the same twenty-four hour period?”

Apparently pretty high when you were the target of rich bastards who were trying to take you down.

Before I could let the fear consume me, because it seemed I was now going to have PTSD when it came to flying, there was a scuffling sound through the trees ahead, and then there were people everywhere. Medics rushed straight for Jasper, relieving Evan of the weight, gently strapping him onto a gurney style device, with handles on all four corners so they could carry him out. Before they moved him though, blood and something in a clear bag was hooked up, and I could have cried as they rushed off, taking Jasper away from us.

“Come on,” Evan said. He quickly used dirt to smother the fire then took my hand in his. “They’re waiting for us.”

There was a short climb up a hill to reach a small clearing where two helicopters were waiting. Jasper and his medic board was being slid into one, and I wasn’t at all surprised to see Dylan head in after him. They’d never leave their friend alone while he was unconscious and vulnerable.

“I’m going with them,” Evan said. “Beck has you.”

I noticed Beck then, standing in the shadows of the second metal beast. He was having a serious looking conversation with a man dressed in a black suit. Beck’s gaze was on me though, and I tried not to think about last night … sleeping on him … trusting him.

No doubt he’d go back to king of the assholes today, so I had to get my game face on.

I moved closer and surprisingly he met me halfway. “Ready to go home?” he asked, expression unreadable.

I nodded. “Yeah, so ready. Oh wait … I don’t have a fucking home.”

The thought of a hot shower and proper food was definitely enticing, but knowing it would come at the cost of spending one more night under Catherine Deboise’s roof. Fuck that.

Beck’s eyes narrowed. “Keep playing the game, Butterfly. Oscar is the result when you try and get out.”

“Who killed him?” I asked, sick of not having answers.

Beck grew tenser, more shadows lining his eyes. “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”

No idea why, but I believed him, and it was a relief to know he hadn’t killed my brother.

When we settled back into the second helicopter, a medic approached me, kneeling down. He looked to be in his late twenties, with dark hair that curled almost to the collar of his white uniform. “I’m here to assess your injuries, Ms. Deboise,” he said, reaching for me.

Beck, who was on my right side, made a low rumbling sound and the medic froze, his eyes darting between me and the scary dude. “I-I,” he stuttered, fear apparent in the way he pulled back and swallowed hard. “Does she have any injuries?” and just like that, I’d been relegated to nothing more than property.

“Sitting right here,” I said with a snarl. “And yes, she does have injuries.”

Beck’s smile was slow and not particularly nice. “She’ll be fine. We have doctors at home that I trust.”

The medic scurried away then like his ass was on fire, and I glared at Beck. “What the hell was that about? You don’t want me to get medical help? Why work so hard to keep me alive if you’re ready to let me die now?”

He smirked at me. “Butterfly, anyone who can bitch me out with this sort of aggression, is far from death.” He paused, and something darker washed his face into that shadowy place he lived in at times. “I don’t know this team of medics. If I don’t know them, I don’t trust them.”

“But Jasper…” I started.

“I have no choice ... he’s in a bad way. Which is why Dylan and Evan are there. Both of them will watch out for him.”

Shaking my head, I settled back into my seat, fatigue and pain rendering me silent. I was confused. It almost sounded like Beck cared enough about me to want to make sure that none of these medics were under Huntley control. Was this just because I was one of the successors to a seat in Delta’s company?

I mean, after a trusted pilot shot himself and tried to kill them, it was pretty obvious why they had trust issues. Maybe I should do the same…

“Can I trust Eddy?” I whispered, scared that the only real friend I’d made in years, outside of Dante, might be fake.

Beck didn’t turn to me, he just continued staring out into the main body of the helicopter, keeping an eye on those around us. “Trust her with limits,” he said. “She’s not one of us, but she’s as close as you’ll get to a friend in this fucked up world. It’s smart to always remember, Butterfly … money corrupts everything.”

I cleared my throat, my pulse skyrocketing as the helicopter blades picked up speed, and the giant metal beast started to move. Without thought, I reached out, gripping Beck’s hand.

“Nervous flyer,” the female medic on the other side of me said, her voice muffled by the noise of the helicopter.

Swinging my head around, I leveled her with my “what the fuck” face. I’d just survived a plane crash...

She must have realized what a stupid statement that had been, giving me an apologetic look, but it was too loud in here now for conversation. Beck freed my hand from where it was wrapped around his, and I almost got my feelings hurt, until he slipped some headphones on me. The sort with a tiny speaker.

By this time we were in the air, my fear had eased, so I simply clasped my hands together, jumping when Beck’s voice echoed in my headphones.

“These are programmed so no one else can hear us,” he said, his voice a rasp of darkness and danger. A rasp my body responded to with almost embarrassing intensity.

“So … Delta … are you guys into bad stuff as well as the legit business practices?”